


Him

by SleepySkeletonKing



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Apologies, Chill, Crying, Cuddling, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Sherlock, Gentleness, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, I Love You, John Watson Thinks Sherlock Holmes is Dead, John is a sad man, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Nightmares, PTSD John, Pining John, Pining John Watson, Post-Season/Series 02, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Depression, Sherlock is alive, and he is really sorry, only mentioned - Freeform, so much crying, soft angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:07:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepySkeletonKing/pseuds/SleepySkeletonKing
Summary: Post-S2Ep3In which John never met Mary and never really moved on after he had seen Sherlock fall to his death.Disclaimer: I do now own Sherlock nor any of its characters.





	Him

John stood at the foot of Sherlock's grave next to Ms. Hudson. His face grim and eyes tired.

He hasn't slept well for days.

He could hardly breath as he tried to keep from crumbling to the ground in a fit of sobs. He had to keep his composure whilst out in public like a proper soldier would.

Sherlock was his everything, even if he wouldnt admit it.

Sherlock was a smartass but he was so brilliant. He was the most clever man he had ever known and the best man he would ever have the pleasure of knowing.

John was so alone before he met Sherlock. Life was strange with Sherlock, but it all seemed right. Now Sherlock's gone and John feels as if he owes him so much.

That night, John paced their- his.. flat. He ran his fingers over the cluttered desks and shelves while feeling an emptiness grow within him.

John would miss Sherlock.

John would miss the way Sherlock would search for only interesting cases and crack them within hours.

John would miss the way Sherlock got bored when there were no cases and the tiny smiles that arose on his face when some specular one would show up.

John would miss Sherlock and his annoying deductions.

John would miss Sherlock.

John sat down and starred at the empty chair across from him. There was so much John wanted to say to Sherlock but never had the chance to. He didn't know if he was ready or not but now... He ran out of time.

John choked back a sob as he brought his hand up to cover his mouth as he curled up in his chair,

" _Sherlock... come back.. please._ "

~ 2 years later ~

John sighed quietly in his office. He had met with all his paitents for the day and he was exhausted. He dropped his head to his desk while rubbing his temples. A migraine had found its way into his head and he just wanted to go home; although his home always felt strangely empty.

John still lived in 221B, but he would hardly step foot out of _his_ room minus for the bathroom and the kitchen. That room was closer to the kitchen and so he figured he'd move into there.

For a while, it even smelled like Sherlock, but his smell slowly faded away.

As John trudged up the stairs, he continued to rub at his temples. He headed straight towards _his_  bed, but John nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the creaking of floor boards in what should be an empty living room.

John's blood ran cool and his heart began to race. He hadn't felt feelings like these since his adventures with Sherlock Holmes. John crept through the kitchen and his body shoke as he fumbled for his gun. John hadn't touched one in a while and the slight adrenaline was making him shake.

John never used to feel this way. If anything he'd feel excitement and would be ready for mostly anything, but now he's gone soft. John's awfully prone to nightmares that have progressively gotten worse.

He held it out, willing his hands to steady as he rounded the corner.

His breath caught in his throat as a tall man stood in the living room with a sheepish grin, "Hello, John."

"Sh-" John choked, holding the gun out, "Is-" He couldn't breath. His mind was racing as he dragged his eyes up and down the man's body quickly.

Were John's eyes fooling him? Had his sleep deprivation finally caught on to him? Had he finally... lost it?

Sherlock gazed at him, a tiny grin plastered on his face as he sort of sang, "I'm not dead."

John dropped the gun and stumbled a bit. His heart racing as he rubbed his eyes roughly.

Before he could even think, he knocked Sherlock in the mouth. Blood dribbled down Sherlock's chin and he muttered, "What a friendly welcome home gift."

"You're not- You're-" John growled. Confusion ran through his mind when suddenly his legs failed him as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Sherlock quickly grabbed onto John's falling body with a sigh. Sherlock's mind raced. He had noticed right away that John hadn't been taking care of himself very well. The half-empty bottle of anti-depressants caught his eyes, too, and his heart swelled.

_Poor John._

"John?" Sherlock asked while gently shaking his unconscious body.  "John?" He tried again. John remained quiet and nearly lifeless in Sherlock's arms.

Sherlock's nose screwed up as he gathered John in his arms,  "You know, John, doctors need to take care of themselves just as they do so for paitents."

Sherlock carried John to his bed and laid him down gently. He immediately recognized the fact that John has been sleeping where Sherlock would have been if he were around. The sheets were fresh and some of John's clothes were skattered over the room, which would normally be unlike him. John had always folded his clothes neatly but now...

Sherlock frowned as he pulled John's shoes off and pulled the covers up and over him.

He felt his forehead gently, brushing his hand over his hair, figuring John would eventually wake up.

Then Sherlock grabbed a glass of water and the pill bottle for John. He shook it absent mindedly as he walked with light feet, careful as to not wake John up from his much needed slumber. Sherlock alwayd knew of the traumas John suffered from the war, and Sherlock's doings only made it worse. He sat the glass of water on the nightstand and then sat at the end of the bed, waiting.

Sherlock played with the blanket at the end of the bed and slowly began to doze off himself.

But, John finally began to stir awake, so Sherlock walked over to the side of the bed and stood out of John's reach, just in case John decides to throw another punch at him.

John mumbled as he sat up before rubbing his eyes sleepily. John's eyes slowly made their way over to Sherlock and his brows rose in confusion for a second before anger crossed over his face, "Sherlock _Holmes_?"

John threw his legs over the bed and lunged at Sherlock but staggered slightly, falling back down into a sitting position. John hit the mattress before  dropping his heads into his hands while muttering to himself, "I saw you die."

Sherlock hummed, "That really wasn't the case, John. I've got you some water and your..." He trailed off as John looked up at him and then to the pill bottle.

John laughed sadly before muttering again, "I watched you _die_ , Sherlock." His voice cracked and he held his breath before standing up and grabbing the bottle. John shook it while struggling to find the right words. "There- there was blood and I- _I_ checked your pulse and I'm a damn good doctor! I wouldn't be wrong about that- I-" He choked back a sob as tears formed in his eyes.

"Yes, I know. It was a simple trick, really. All I had to do was-"

"I don't bloody care about that Sherlock! Look at what you've done to me!" John threw the bottle before crumbling right before Sherlock's very eyes.

Sherlock could see all of John. All of John's broken pieces. Some were old while others quite new. He could see the hurt in John's eyes as he attemptedto supress his feelings. He watched as John hid behind his hands with muffled cries. Sherlock's heart felt... He felt terrible.

Sherlock stepped forward and with gentle arms brought John into a warm hug. John stood still as he rested his head on Sherlock's chest while mumbling, "I asked you to not be dead."

"And I heard you." Sherlock whispered as he rubbed John's back. Comforting people had never came easy to Sherlock, but this was John, and John deserves the very best he can muster.

John broke away with tear stained cheeks as he looked up at Sherlock. His eyebrows were furrowed as he spoke, "One phone call, Sherlock. One phone call would've been enough. Now look at me... I'm barely alive myself." His voice grew more quiet after every word.

Sherlock watched as John looked away. He could tell by the way he was standing that he was upset- no, beyond upset. John was nearly broken all the way through.

Sherlock grabbed a hold of John's shoulders and took a deep breath, gathering John's attention. "I'm... sorry?"

John laughed slightly, "That sounds like more of a question than an apology."

Sherlock's lips twitched as he thought hard about how he could possibly explain what he was thinking. "John- I... It wasn't easy... for me either."

John's eyebrows rose in suprise, "Take your time."

_Sherlock was explaining his feelings._

"It wasn't easy for me to see you there. To see the betrayal and hurt cross over your face. To see you keep your soldier-like composure at my grave even though- I know John. I know how sorrowful you felt. I could see it like a written book in your eyes. John, I- I've missed _you_ since the second I made that decision. I wanted to be with you the whole time I was gone. I'm sorry that-" He paused as he noticed the tears trailing down John's face. "Did I do something wrong? John?" He rushed while tightening his grip on John in fear that he may disappear.

John shook his head with a sad smile, "No, no Sherlock. You haven't done anything wrong." John then wrapped his arms around Sherlock while burying his head into his chest. Sobs shook his body as Sherlock rubbed at his back soothingly.

John's hands tightened arounf the fabric of Sherlock's coat as he spoke, his words muffled, "I missed you so much."

Sherlock leant back to look at John. John sniffed and tried to turn his head away to hide but Sherlock took ahold of John's face with tender hands. Sherlock wiped away John's tears with his thumbs, and he hardly noticed his own few tears dripping down his face.

"Sherlock?" John asked. His breathing began to slow to a steady pace as Sherlock leant down, pressing a soft kiss to John's forehead.

John hummed while both their cheeks turned red.

Sherlock droped his hands down to John's waist while mumbling, "I miss you."

John rose an eyebrow, "Miss as in currently? You're here with me now, silly."

Sherlock's grip tightened as he blushed, "I _still_ miss you..."

John reached a hand up to play with one of Sherlock's curls before mumbling, "How is it that i'm consoling you now?"

Sherlock shrugged, hiding his face from John's view, "Can we just go to bed?"

John laughed lightly before backing onto the bed, "Don't-" John grunted as Sherlock rolled over him with a playful grin.

Sherlock wrapped his arms around John, assuming a protecting position as he nuzzled his nose in John's hair. "I care about you so much, John. I just want to be with you all the time. I never thought I would find anyone like you... and never thought you'd be so short."

"Shut up you bloody idiot," John grumbled before turning to face Sherlock, "But, I love you too."

Sherlock giggled at John's pink face before pressing anothrr kiss to his forehead, "Good."

**Author's Note:**

> So yea, that's how i wished it happened.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback is always welcomed!


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